Epistolary Idiocy
by inked-jaeger
Summary: Tezuka is in Germany, and so Momo writes letters to him, getting jealous over Tezuka's hot (and unbeknown to him, lesbian) therapist, and frustrated over the action Ryoma and Kaidoh are getting. With each other. Unfair. He gets to sit here and write to someone thousands of miles away. Tezuka replies. Because he's in love.
1. Chapter 1

the words between {and} are struck through. sorry for the confusion. blame the 10/10, A plus formatting options of ffn

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><p>To: Tezuka-buchou<p>

I think, buchou, if someone wrote our story, they'd only ever, like, need these letters for reference. Yeah. What's that kinda story called? Uh, {episs... episs} epistolary. I asked Ryoma. He's pretty good at English, though it's not a surprise anymore, I mean, he's good enough to take advanced classes while I sit and dream about hamburgers in beginner's English.

Don't worry, I also dream about you. With the hamburgers. Not you and the hamburgers together, I mean, either you or the hamburgers. Mostly you. Hamburgers, when I'm hungry. Ah, yeah. Ryoma saw me writing this. He says I'm blushing. I told him to go away. He's PEERING OVER MY SHOULDER LIKE A NOSY GODDAMN BRAT

He's gone. He swore at me. Is "pineapple" a curse? What a disrespectful kouhai. Sorry, the letter's all messed up now. Blame that chibi. I'm not writing a new one. This isn't Animal Crossing.

Buchou, how does Germany look? Does it remind you of Hetalia Germany?

Doitsu. _Doitsuuuuu_

Mamushi's looking at me all weird now because I just said _Doitsuuuuu_ out loud. Go away, Mamushi. Go irritate Inui-senpai or someone.

I was watching this one sci-fi flick the other day. I, Robot. It was so cool, buchou, we should really watch it together some day. Or maybe watch it on one of those synchronized sites. Although I bet we'd end up Skype-ing each other. {And then we'd have really hot Skype sex}

Can you read the crossed-out part? I hope you can't. Uh.

Buchou, when are you coming back? I miss you. I mean, the team, the team misses you. I do. More than them.

I love you more than them, too.

{Kunimitsu} Buchou, I was in my room the other day, and then I jerked off to thoughts of you.

The crossed-out part read "And then we'd have really hot Skype sex", by the way. Just taking this giant leap.

I want you. I miss you so much, buchou. I keep touching myself every day but you've ruined me, even for myself. And you haven't even KISSED me yet. Is this love?

Yes. I love you, buchou. To be honest, I have no clue why I'm writing you letters in the tennis club locker room when I could just as easily use the internet to send you emails. But emails are so... unemotional.

I'm unemotional, too, but emails are more unemotional. Like that Shinji guy from Fudomine. I could Skype with you, too, but. You'd only see my red face. I don't want you to see that embarrassing side of me.

I'm like such a blushing girl. Buchou, hold me~

I snorted out loud at that. Mamushi's staring at me weirdly again. I think. I can only see him out of the corner of my eye. Oh shit he's coming over and he's taking the lette-

I beat him in the wrestling match we just had, buchou, don't worry. He didn't see the really shameful parts of the letter. I learned my lesson, I'll write my other letters to you at home, now. Or in math class.

Ugh, math.

You're a {genious} genius at math. I love you. I wish I could fuck you right now. I want to spread your legs and drive you wild.

I'm taking a leap of faith and the utmost bravery, and not putting correction fluid on that.

Oh, buchou. Oishi-fukubuchou's trying to hard to keep us all together. He works really hard. I feel terrible. I don't work as hard as him at all. I don't know what'll happen next year, though, when all of you are gone. I don't ever think about that. Because you'll be gone. And you probably won't stay {my boyf} mine.

You're mine, right?

Can I call you my boyfriend? Am I your boyfriend? I don't know how these things work. {I'm not so smooth with guys as I am with girls.} I HAVEN'T BEEN TRYING SHITSHIT

I passed History, though. Did you know? I got an A minus. My mom was crying. She said they'd probably mixed up my paper with some deserving nerd's. I'm a nerd, too! I'm a goddamn star! {My Dunk Smash is fabu}

I miss you. Oh, by the way, if you were searching for your new pair of glasses before you left, they're with me. I found them under my bed. Remember you fell asleep at my place the evening before you left and then woke up just a few hours before the flight haha yeah they're with me

I love you. So much. I hate this feeling.

I'm going to stop writing now, or I'll have to pay more for stamps because the letter will get heavier.

Bye.

Love,

Momo

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><p>To: Takeshi<p>

Dear Takeshi

Epistolary. That's the word, indeed.

I suppose that would summarize our story succinctly enough, but nothing ever can capture my desire for you as wholly as the real thing. Me. I haven't had a hamburger in Germany. I only ever like them when you're next to me.

I want to see you blush. It's not embarrassing. It's intimate, in a sense.

(A pineapple is a fruit. He was probably mocking your hair.)

What's Animal Crossing? And Hetalia Germany?

Momo, don't fight with Kaidoh. How is he doing? Does he still train 12 hours a day when school is out? Has Inui changed his training schedule and diet plan? How are the others? Eiji and Fuji must be fine. I'm worried about Taka. Don't let him use Hadokyuu more than five times in a day. I hope Echizen is also doing well. I spoke with Oishi the other day. He didn't seem as exhausted as you make him sound.

I've watched I, Robot already. It's good. The book is much better.

I love you more than my team, too.

I wish I could have been there to see that. You, in your room. You, every day. If I didn't know better, I would say you're trying to bring me back sooner than the date fixed for my return.

I just kissed the paper right now. You can kiss over the word 'kissed'. There. We've had our first kiss, now. My therapist gave me this idea. She's a romantic at heart. I don't know if this works. If the kiss will evaporate in the time it takes to reach Japan from Germany.

Yes. Emails would be a colder choice than handwritten letters.

Do not let Kaidoh read these letters again, Takeshi. We have reputations to maintain. I do not treat mine as flippantly as you do.

'Spread my legs and drive me wild'?

Well.

I'm amenable to that outcome, surprisingly.

Never use correction fluid on these letters. Be honest with me. I love you and I accept the embarrassing side of you along with the side that you call 'cool'.

And this - pay attention in class. Math is important.

Yes, I'm yours.

Takeshi, if I catch wind of you crudely 'hitting up' other boys or girls, severe consequences will await you when I return.

You're a star, yes. You're my North Star. I follow you home.

That line was, once again, recommended by my therapist. She seems to be getting vicarious pleasure from our exchanges. She also just reprimanded me for mentioning this.

I did miss those glasses. It doesn't matter, though. I acquired new prescription lenses here. I'll attach a picture (this was a suggestion from, once more...) in the next letter.

I love you, too.

My therapist just called you a cheapskate. I'm sorry, but she read the letter over my shoulder like Ryoma tried to do with you. I rescind whatever I said to you about not showing these communications to Kaidoh - I have no right anymore.

She says to introduce her. Well, she's Anneliese. And says hi.

_Hello, Momo-kun! I feel like I know you already~ he talks sooo much about you, it's like you're right here with us! If you were wondering, Kunimitsu's arm is much better now, and if he heals at this rate, he might come home earlier than expected! Such good news for you, darling. Also, what's wrong with paying a few more yen for a longer, more loving letter? He gets really lonely, you know. xo Anne_

That was her, strangely eager to talk to you.

Awaiting your reply

Your boyfriend,

Kunimitsu (which is what you're supposed to call me in private, not buchou)


	2. Chapter 2

Awkward bottom Tezuka awkwardly writing his fantasy to appease Momo? Yeah, count me in. Very awkward sex because ay, I wrote it. You can see the pause in the letter where he stopped out of shyness (and arousal) and started on Momo's faults and flaws, writing as Tezuka the captain.

Well, knock yourself out. Secondhand embarrassment is a real thing. Also the entire first paragraph is struck out.

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><p>To: Tezuka-buchou<p>

{{I kind of... I kind of want to suck you off. I mean. It's always you. You never let me do it. I want to worship your cock. I want to use only my mouth to get you off. I want to run my tongue all over it. I want to kiss it all over. I want to see your face when I'm sucking on you - and I want to swallow your come, every single drop of it, and I want to spend an entire night just making you hard and then making you come, all over my face but mostly down my throat}}

Sorry. I wrote that yesterday night, when I was in a... mood because of the photo you sent me. I should have probably started my letter all over again on another sheet of paper, but as your therapist says, I'm a cheapskate.

Or maybe I just secretly wanted you to see that. Because that's what you do to me. So tell your therapist that you're mine. And that I'm better than her.

Okay. Very sorry. I'm just kind of pissed off. My morning didn't begin too well. My mom kinda saw my dirty blanket. She wasn't even disturbed about the fact that I jacked off on it. She was upset that she'd have to be the one to wash it. We argued about that. It was an awkward and infuriating ten minutes. I didn't want my mom to know I'm a healthy young man. She'll think her cooking's the key.

Also, Buchou Kuni Buchou, you don't know HETALIA? ANIMAL CROSSING? No. No, I'm not going to tell you. Maybe your therapist has the answers.

Don't talk about that idiot Mamushi in our letters so much, Buchou. It's weird. I didn't know he trains 12 hours a day!? {{Buchou, are you hinting at something}}

Literally everybody's fine. I mean - I told them I was writing letters to you. And they might have gotten ideas. So, if you suddenly get a {{shitload}} lot of letters or one giant{{-ass}} letter from everybody talking about random stuff, please don't blame me. I don't think you'll get the time to actually do your therapy, with your therapist. {{It's a good and bad thing but}}

Listen up, Buchou, I'm not gonna have our first kiss like this. Not an indirect kiss like this. It's gonna be beautiful and amazing and real. With my mouth on yours. With my tongue rubbing against yours. You biting my lips. My hands under your shirt. You're taller than me, but I'd make it work. I'd stand up on an upended tennis ball basket or something. I'd kiss you over and over. Our mouths would be wet and red. You'd look so beautiful and wrecked. And that would be like 100% magnified on you because you're usually as expressive as a rock. You. You're the focus of everything. So, I'm not going to kiss you like this.

{{The fact that your therapist, who I incidentally dislike, suggested this might be one of the decisive factors, too, I guess, maybe, no}}

Spread your legs and drive you wild. Hell yes. I'd wait until we'd done everything else, and then - I'd wreck you. I don't know why I like thinking about wrecking you. In that sense. Buchou, I just love you so much.

I did get that picture you sent me. I got it.

I hope you understand why this letter is full of {sexy things} passion.

You look so good. So healthy and you're not in pain anymore, and you actually seem a bit happy. Despite that woman hanging off your shoulder and taking the selfie. Is she Anneliese-san? Probably. Is she overstepping personal and professional boundaries? Probably.

I know. I'm really jealous. I'm sorry. I won't go and cross out every mean thing I said but I just. She gets to be this close to you. And I haven't even touched you properly.

What do you mean, you get really lonely in Germany? {{What about all the hot German babes}} Does that mean you miss me?

You're so cheesy, Buchou. As if I'd ever cheat on you. You're so...

Okay. Before I write down another descriptive paragraph on how I love you, I'm going to end this.

Love you bye

Momo xxxxxxx

P.S. Like my pic?

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><p>To: Takeshi<p>

Jealousy really does not befit you, Takeshi. If you must know, Anneliese is a happily taken lesbian woman, at least ten years older than me. (She says hi, again, and laments the fact that I spoiled her fun.)

You really should be more careful with what you write on something that anybody can see at any time. I'll be back, she just told me to run ninety laps.

... Speaking of which, my therapist just informed me that she read your entire letter while I ran around the training ground, to apparently have privacy while she invaded mine. I apologize, Takeshi. I am so sorry. She's done this for the second time. I will understand if you refrain from talking to me again for the rest of the time I'm in Germany.

I'll love you, still.

Do you want me to tell you my fantasies, too? Perhaps as an apology, I will. Just wait until I'm done with physiotherapy for the day. Then Anneliese won't have a legitimate reason to look over my shoulder and embarrass me.

I'm in my room, now. I've finished my stretching for the day. This feels unsettling, like I'm going to bare a part of me that can never be covered again.

I wish I could {{ride}} {{ride}} {{have se}} ride you. I imagined a day where there was nothing to disturb us while you kissed me in that endearing way you do. You slowly took my clothes off and pressed your hips to mine while we were on our knees atop our bed. I merely imagined it, but I felt the jolt in reality. You kept doing that to me. I lost all the strength in my arms and legs, and I had to take my glasses off so that I wouldn't see clearly. I clung to you as you kissed my neck, sliding your hands down my back until you reached my {{buttoc}} ass and used the leverage {{to roll your hips harder against mine}} satisfactorily.

I'm sorry. There's a slight problem - I'll have to finish this letter later.

You were very upset about the picture of me with Anneliese that I sent you. Would you like another? She took a photo of me running in my tracksuit and said that you would like it a lot. I've attached it, and I apologize to your mother in advance.

I love you.

For some reason, I keep thinking about it. Keeping thinking about how you think about wrecking me. I want you to do it. It feels strange, writing it. I don't know if I'm serious about it, but I want you to do it.

Are you practising tennis daily? I will make sure to ask Oishi. I'll be back in time for the next round of the tournaments, Takeshi, and if your performance and form aren't up to the mark, you will be off the team. No favouritism.

There is a new move that I created here, with the help of Anne. It might help Seigaku a lot. About what you said - yes, you do need to learn from Kaidoh's dedication. You've been slacking off lately, I've heard from reliable sources. As your captain, I need to warn you to get serious.

Hone your Dunk Smash, it's all over the place. Try learning the Hadokyuu from Kawamura, it might help you increase your power exponentially. Don't rest on your laurels - as you might say, get off your ass and get going.

One more thing before I sign off - I do not get lonely, Anneliese was lying, and I don't need 'hot German babes' when I have you.

Kunimitsu

P.S. It left me short of breath for a long while.


	3. Chapter 3

Only Momo's letter this time. I decided to write the story with 1000 approx. words per chapter. I want to stick to that decision. Momo's so lewd. Who said they wanted RyoKai interaction? Well, here you have it. Kaidoh's even more lewd than Momo, apparently. You'll see. Tell me what you think once you stop screaming. Hopefully, you do scream.

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><p>To: Tezuka-buchou<p>

Two things: First, I hope my phone call didn't bother you that much, buchou. I just hated the way your fantasy was left incomplete. And I hope you didn't cream your phone... like I did (I'm stupid, I put earphones on so I'd have free hands and yeah). I wish I could have at least kissed you before the phone sex happened. But I have no regrets.

Oh, god, hearing your voice like that, all broken, and keening and sighing was... divine.

I hope that therapist of yours didn't walk in on this, too. I'm happy that she hasn't got her sight on you, buchou, but watch out, you're a magnet and you attract everybody.

I am weirdly okay with the fact that my letter was read by someone other than you. That my privacy was stripped and made a mockery of. I'm okay.

OF COURSE I'M NOT OKAY but it's you, isn't it? It's okay if it's you. And your apologies on the phone were enough. Oh, the phone. I don't know how I'm going to clean it. Or explain why I want a new phone to my parents. They won't really like the way I racked up my phone bill jacking off for hours to your voice.

But... your voice. The way you fingered yourself for me while moaning into the phone mike was... otherworldly. I can't believe you didn't know how to do it {{which made talking you through it all the more sexy}}. I feel so filthy, ruining your innocence. By the time this letter reaches you, it'll be days later, so I'll ask like this: were you able to walk the next day?

I heard your voice after such a long time that I came within minutes. But I guess I took longer the next five times. Buchou, it feels so precious, because you're not someone I'd ever imagine doing something like this, and that makes it 100,000% hotter, and buchou, I keep imagining your face, I keep imagining kissing you while you're doing it, kissing you hard, and deep, and oh wait that reminds me. Fucking fuck.

You know how there were two things I wanted to talk about?

Yeah, here's the second thing. Today was the worst day of my life, buchou. Worst day ever. I saw something which I shouldn't have seen, and which will haunt me for months to come. Whose fault is it that I'm going to have nightmares, now?

Mamushi, of course. That fucking snake. Who does he think he is?

I walked in on something terrifying today. I'm still shivering. I forgot it while I was thinking about kissing you, but then I just...

Okay, I walked in on Kaidoh and Echizen kissing in the locker room.

IT WASN'T EVEN MY FAULT! I left my peach-doodle sweatband in my tennis locker - well, yours, because I drew the peaches on your sweatband before you gave it to me, remember that day - YEAH NO SO I just went in there... and there they were. Kissing. Against my locker. You know how it's the farthest locker from the door. I'm very unlucky.

So they were kissing. And no innocent pecking, either. It was disgusting. I'll never kiss you like that. I will, but not as disgustingly. They were eating each other's mouths all slow. I never wanted that image in my mind. I'm hoping I can pass it on to you. Like the Sadako videotape.

Look, buchou, I'm not going to describe the scene to you, because I'm pretty sure you don't want a description, and also, I managed to repress about 70% of the memory.

I'm just going to say that

i) they were making out, using my locker as support (I'm going to buy industry-grade cleaners after I finish writing and posting this letter)

ii) when I banged open the door they flew apart, but I saw their hands coming out of each others' shorts

iii) Kaidoh was literally the reddest snake in the world for that moment

iv) the ends of something that looked suspiciously like Mamushi's green bandanna were peeking out from the waistband of Ryoma's boxers (Yeah. I could see them. You realize why I want so much to get rid of this memory)

You know the worst thing? I can't even use it as leverage or blackmail to get Mamushi off my ass because why? In a few months, when you come back, it's going to be us against that locker and I'll lose all that leverage when either of them walks in on us like someone definitely will.

{{I mean unless you wanna get creative in those tiny bathrooms.}}

Also v) those hands were wet and _looked_ sticky. Yuck.

Kaidoh started hissing at me (as usual) and Ryoma after a look of panic began to look bored (as usual). He fixed his shorts BY TUCKING THE BANDANNA ENDS IN, took Kaidoh's sticky hand in his own sticky hand, and said "Don't tell anyone, Momo-senpai" and then just fucking left, dragging Kaidoh out, with no care for _my_ trauma.

Don't tell anyone Momo-senpai my ass. How dare they. I had to return home because I couldn't bear going near my locker. I left {{your}} {{my}} our sweatband there! Buchou, how will I go to sleep today

Ugh, Kunimitsu, I can't believe I used so much paper to write about my worst day ever.

At least thoughts of going to my favourite hamburger place with you helped me go home without gagging behind a bush.

I don't want to think about how that bandanna was being used, but I can't stop thinking about it. Help me. I need help. {{I think it was used as a ribbon for Ryoma's}} {{I didn't know Mamushi was so kinky}}

I'm going to try and change the topic. When you come back, the first thing you and I are gonna do is go to my room and neck each other. If you want, I mean.

And then I'm going to take you out on all the dates that we've missed because of that assfuck Atobe and his dumb tennis match with you. We'll go to a park and we'll sit and feed ducks and talk about stuff. Tennis.

I am improving my Dunk Smash, by the way. Kawamura-senpai's helping me increase my power so the Smash will be totally unreturnable soon.

I love you. I realized I hadn't said it in this letter.

I love you very much. And you are gorgeous and handsome and way cooler than me so watch out for everyone, you never know who'll hit on you next.

I was thinking of changing my hairstyle, from spikes to something more ordinary, like bleaching it. What do you say?

I love your eyes. You look so beautiful without your nerd glasses, buchou. And beautiful with.

MOMOSHIRO TAKESHI IS THE SINGLE MOST LUCKY COOL GUY IN THE UNIVERSE.

The team decided to send you a giant letter in the end. Tell me when you get it. It's full of not-deep stuff, and they haven't written any secrets like 'Kaidoh and Ryoma are a thing' or 'Eiji and Oishi are a bigger thing but everyone knows and no one cares'.

I wrote some stuff in there because everyone wrote something. I wrote about your tennis moves.

I was thinking about the way your face looks when you do those moves. That level of concentration... well it's already been established that you are attractive as fuck.

You might notice I haven't mentioned your therapist much. You see, I can be mature when I want to be.

Okay, I have to study. I'm failing Chem.

Love you xx going to buy those cleaners and then study

Momo


End file.
